Fire and Dandelions
by Amara Kingley
Summary: Written for the August "girlfriend month" challenge. A twist to the dandelion scene in the original Hunger Games. Katniss is truly thankful for what Peeta has done for her and her family. How will she repay him? Rated K  for minor language


**I wrote this with the dandelion scene and the bread scene in mind. I tried to recreate the sense of hope that the scene gave Katniss as well as give the spark between Katniss and Peeta. I always felt that she had formulated some kind of feelings for him after what he did for her and tried to hint at that with this piece. I hope you enjoy it very much.**

**This piece is dedicated to PeetaPercyFANGirl. She was my beta for this one-shot and she did a wonderful job. Thank you very much chica!**

**~Amara Kingley**

**Disclaimer: I, Amara Kingley, claim no rights to any of the original characters, places, and events of the Hunger Games. The realm of the Hunger Games was created by Suzanne Collins to which I forfeit these rights.**

I awoke that morning to the brilliant sun shinning through the dirty windows of my house. White fluffy clouds glided idly across the beautiful baby blue sky. The ground lay damp and muddy; the only evidence of the dreary showers the previous day. It was like spring came over night, powering through the bitter winter.

A sense of disbelief washed over me. The events of the previous day seemed like a distant dream; a fantasy conjured up by my starving heart and mind. I prepared myself to make yet another pot of water with mint leaves when my eyes rested on the loaf. It wasn't a dream.

The baker's son saved me, saved my starving family. This semi-burnt loaf ended the three day fasting streak my family was forced upon.

The call of my stomach sent me to wake Prim and move mother from her spot, by the window over-looking the path to the mines, over to the table. I scraped the black stuff off the worst parts of the loaf and sliced a decent sized serving for each of us. No words were exchanged while we ate. Talking would burn the calories that this precious bread gave us, and its too precious to waste on meaningless drabble. The bread was mouthwatering even the day after; the nuts and bits of dried fruit were very satisfying to my starved stomach. I looked over at Prim who seemed to be enjoying every bite she took.

That put a frown on my face. She shouldn't have to worry about food and yet she now savors every last bite like the food before her would disappear before her very eyes.

Mother sat back down in her chair by the window after breakfast as I got Prim ready for school. I brushed her freshly washed hair and tied it back with one of her hair ribbons. Her cheeks didn't look so bony and thin now that she has had food in her. I smiled but only for a second. After tonight, I'd have to worry about feeding her once again. The thought put me to shame. I quickly dressed into one of the few articles of clothing that still fit me and ushered Prim out the door.

The way to school was a long one. The school house was located on the "richer" side of town; the merchant side. It was a good walk from the Seam to the school house so we had to leave earlier than most other children. Upon reaching town, the rude remarks thrown at us began. The merchant kids always teased us Seam kids. We were poor and they were rich. There wasn't much else to it. You could always tell who was Seam and who wasn't.

The Seam children had the tendency to have dark hair and olive-colored skin paired off with grey eyes while the merchant kids had lighter hair, skin, and eyes. Prim was the exception. She was Seam with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was more accepted among them than I was.

The street opened up to the entrance of the school yard. Many kids were entering into the school but a lot of the merchant kids stayed bunched up outside. Prim detached herself from me and sauntered off towards her friends that stood at the entrance waiting for her as usual. She turned and waved to me before heading inside. I waved back to her with a slight smile on my face. I gave an exasperated sigh.

How in the world am I going to feed her? I can't leave my sister to starve to death. I cant have that weight on my shoulders. It was then that I saw it. It was like the clouds parted and light shone down on it.

A dandelion. The first of the season. For some reason, it clicked. All was not lost. I couldn't explain the feeling I had. Happiness? Relief? Both? No, neither. Hope. I was feeling Hope. Hope is what I saw in that dandelion; a ball of sunshine, glowing in the bleak and grey world of District 12, continuing to live on. That perhaps everything wouldn't be unlivable. I bent down and gazed at the little weed. I felt a slight smile dance across my lips, something that only happened around my sister.

I felt eyes on me and when I turned, my gaze met that of the baker's son. He quickly averted his gaze, but I continued to look at him. This boy, a boy whose name I didn't even know, saved me. I owe him my life. That made me angry.

I hate owing people anything and what I owed this boy was bigger than anything. Nobody asked him to give me those loaves of bread, I know I didn't. Yet he did and I want to know why. I stood and dusted off the dirt from my pants hoping to look cleaner and made my way over to him. He was surrounded by a group of other merchant boys which made what I'm ten times harder.

The situation grew worse when the boys saw me walking over to them. Disgust flashed across their faces as if to ask, "what is she doing coming over to us?" I ignored their looks but was intrigued that the baker's son didn't look at me like the others. I wasn't sure what expression he was making. At least it wasn't with disgust.

"What do you want _Seam_?" One of the boys asked, heavy venom on the word Seam.

I took a small breath and replied with a small voice, "I wanted to talk to him." I pointed to the baker's son.

"And what is his name?" another teased. I groaned internally. I really didn't need this.

"Mellark," I answered, reciting the name on the bakery store. I hope to God that the bakery was named after them. The boys gave a slight surprised nod and turned to the baker's son.

"Do you really want to talk to her Peeta? I mean she's _Seam scum_. We could stay here with you, if you want us to," they whispered loud enough for me to hear. So his name is Peeta. Better note that. The baker's son waved them away.

"It's fine guys, really. Just go on without me. I'll catch up later." The boys left reluctantly and disappeared behind the doors of the school.

"Some friends you got there," I remarked sarcastically when the boys were out of view. Peeta shrugged.

"They're not always like that. They are actually pretty nice. But I have the feeling that you aren't here to talk to me about my choice in friends." I nodded and rubbed the back of my neck. I was never good at this. I don't know what to say, and my words always failed me.

"I wanted to thank you," I said. Peeta tilted his head slightly with a confused look on his face.

"Thank me for what?" I gave him a look. He threw his hands in the air as to say he had no idea what I was talking about.

"You know what I'm talking about." Silence.

"Yesterday? The bread?" I asked, hoping to jog his memory.

"What bread?" he asked innocently. That pissed me off. He was acting like yesterday never even happened. Maybe it was all just a dream and I'm making a huge fool out of myself; yet the mark on his face was clearly still there and bruising. Would you forget why your mother gave you such an evil mark on your face? Or was it not there? He was turned at an angle that only let me see half of his face.

"The bread you gave me yesterday, "I said getting frustrated. "You burned them and tossed them to me." Peeta turned slighty pink and turned his head away from me. From the new angle he was at I could see the slight bruising that colored his cheek and jaw line; it looked better than yesterday.

"Did it hurt?" I asked. Peeta looked up suddenly and put his hand to his cheek.

"Wasn't too bad. That will teach me to walk down the the stairs in the dark half-asleep." He laughed it off. I knew what he said was a lie but decided not to push it.

"Look, Peeta. I'm here to thank you and repay you. I _owe_ you for what you did. I owe you _big._" Peeta shook his head violently, knocking blonde curls into his eyes.

"Katniss, you don't owe me anything. Really you don't." It was my turn to shake my head. I tried masking my surprise that he knew my name when I didn't know his.

"No Peeta, I do. If you hadn't done what you did, I would be dead. Not to mention the rest my family." Peeta's face turned stressed and unruly. We began to argue back and forth on whether or not I owed him anything. It was very tiresome. Eventually I gave up. I threw my hands up in the air and ran a hand down my face. A light bulb went off in my head.

"Hang on a second." I moved over to the dandelion I saw earlier. I plucked it from the ground and walked it back over to Peeta. I stuck my hand out and he quizzically stuck his out too. I pushed the dandelion into his hand.

He looked it with a confused look and asked, "What's this?"

"A promise," I replied. "I'm going to pay you back and this is a promise of that fact." I turned and walked off, ignoring the calls he made about not owing him. It didn't matter. In my mind I did and I was going to repay him.

* * *

><p>"Did you ever repay him back, Mommy?" the small blue eyed girl asked me. I brushed her dark hair off of her shoulder and gave a light-hearted smile.<p>

"Well sweetie," I said happily looking behind me into the kitchen where a tall blonde man was busy at the counter kneading a roll of dough between his hands. He was covered head to toe with flour but I could still make out the gold band he wore on his left finger. I turned back to my daughter that still waited expectantly.

"Let's just say I still have a long ways to go."


End file.
